


Save the Last Dance

by Nope



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-26
Updated: 2003-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25783723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nope/pseuds/Nope
Summary: As Head Boy and Girl, Draco and Hermione are expected to open the school dance together.





	Save the Last Dance

It was the last meeting of term and, try as she might to stay focused, Hermione found her gaze drifting away from the Headmaster and around the large, circular room, sliding across the sleeping portraits and bouncing across multiple bizarre ornaments. She sipped at her tea, keeping one ear on Draco Malfoy -- who was sitting at her side and exactly far enough away to be insulting without breaching etiquette -- and vaguely thinking that, while it was definitely one of the more interesting rooms at Hogwarts, the place could use a good dust. And a woman's touch. Clear out the corners, let a little more light into the room. Maybe a few plants or--  
  
"And of course," added Dumbledore, "as Head Boy and Girl, you'll be expected to the open the dance together."  
  
Malfoy's face froze mid smirk. Hermione choked on her tea.  
  
"Is there something wrong?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"I'm sorry, Headmaster," said Hermione in a cold, brittle voice, "I could have sworn I just heard you say that we would have to dance--"  
  
"Yes--"  
  
"--together."  
  
"That's right."  
  
"Malfoy and I, together, dancing. Together. Malfoy. And I."  
  
"Of course." Dumbledore smiled wildly at them, eyes twinkling merrily. "I'm sure you'll make a lovely couple."  
  
Malfoy made a noise very much like someone screaming through clenched teeth and frozen lips.  
  
"Good." Dumbledore clapped his hands. "I'm glad that's settled. Fizzing Whizbee?"  
  
#  
  
Malfoy stumbled into another wall. Hermione grabbed at his sleeve before he could crash into a suit of armour -- the downside of dealing with Filch just outweighing the upside of Malfoy being hit by falling iron -- and steered him back to the centre of the corridor. He mumbled and twitched at her touch. Hermione sighed to herself. Getting Malfoy down the stairs from the Headmaster's office had been hard enough; if she had to do this all the way to the Dungeons...  
  
"Malfoy--"  
  
"Nng!" Malfoy squeaked, rocking away from her, vivid points of colour in his usually pale cheeks. "Dnn! Nyah!"  
  
"Oh, for Pete's sake, Malfoy, blink," snapped Hermione. "It's only one dance."  
  
"Only one dance," repeated Malfoy, incredulous. "Only one dance? ONLY ONE DANCE?! ONLY--"  
  
Hermione slapped him, hard; the pale imprint of her fingers faded into the redness of his cheek. Malfoy staggered backwards, mouth opening and closing like a fish.  
  
There was a long, stunned silence. Hermione raised her hand again.  
  
Malfoy jumped backwards, yelping, "You hit me!"  
  
"You were hysterical!"  
  
"Just because you find me funny is no reason to hit me!"  
  
"...what?" Hermione stared at him. "Oh, honestly, Malfoy!"  
  
Malfoy sniffed. "I shall be scarred," he proclaimed. "Scarred for life."  
  
"I barely touched you!"  
  
"Emotionally. Scarred."  
  
Hermione took a deep breath, trying for reasonability. "Look, I know, you hate me and I don't like you--"  
  
"Your grasp of the obvious is as strong as ever."  
  
"Really, it's, what, three minutes out of our lives? What's the worst that can happen?"  
  
"People will see us," hissed Malfoy. "Dancing. With each other. Closely. Nothing between me and you and your, your, your... your icky, icky, Mudblood germs!"  
  
"What? Malfoy, how old are you?"  
  
"Well I don't see how that's relevant."  
  
"Honestly, sometimes I could just... Can we call a truce? Just for the Leavers' ball? Just for this one, brief, quickly-repressed-and-never-repeated occasion?"  
  
"A truce?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"For three minutes."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"While we dance?"  
  
"YES, Malfoy, yes!"  
  
"I'd rather kiss a Weasley," Malfoy hissed at her and, spinning on his heel strode away.  
  
"That can be arranged!" Hermione yelled after him and took some small satisfaction in the shuddered response and the rapid lengthening of Malfoy's strides.  
  
#  
  
Hermione snapped the Gryffindor password -- "Cannons Rule", and never again would she allow anyone else to pick it -- and, ignoring the Fat Lady's disapproving sniff, clambered through the portrait hole and stormed out into the common room. Arms firmly crossed she glared at Ron and Harry's game of Exploding Snap until, backing away from a particularly incendiary play, they finally noticed her.  
  
"Alright, Hermione?" said Ron. "Want a game?"  
  
"No, thank you. And, no, I'm not all right!"  
  
"Perhaps you should sit down?" suggested Harry, moving over to leave her space.  
  
"It really is the silliest thing..." Hermione sat, promptly stood up again, and began pacing back and forth between Harry and Ron. "It's not like there isn't precedent. He practically drools all over Sally-Anne Perks during Arithmancy and I happen to know her mother's a Muggle! Honestly, the double standard is just so typical of the boy! And it's not like I asked him myself. It's an edict, a veritable command from the Headmaster himself!"  
  
"Ah," said Harry wisely.  
  
"Mm," nodded Ron sagely.  
  
"It's clearly our responsibility to set an example, to provide a template for inter-House understanding, or at the very least civility, for the lower years to emulate! I would have thought someone of his background would appreciate the sacrifices necessary to maintain one's position of respect and authority! And I hardly feel this situation warrants such an extreme and, well, one doesn't like to speak ill of one's fellows, but, really, a frankly obnoxious response to what is a quite small, although admittedly onerous, duty."  
  
"Of course not," agreed Harry and Ron said "Absolutely" and they exchanged blank looks behind Hermione's back.  
  
"I'm glad someone sees it my way!"  
  
"Yeah," said Ron. "Hermione?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"When exactly did you turn into Percy," asked Ron, "and what the bloody hell are you talking about?"  
  
"The Leaver's Ball, of course," yelled Hermione. "I have to dance with that... that... that PRAT MALFOY!"  
  
There was a long, stunned silence.  
  
A giggle escaped Harry. Hermione put her fists on her hips and glared so hard at him she almost missed Ron bursting into laughter and falling off his chair. Turning her glare on Ron meant she did miss Harry sliding down to join him, giggles turning into snorts of laughter between gasps of breath.  
  
"I, I'm sor- sorry," Harry managed. "It's j-just--"  
  
Ron managed to stop laughing long enough to stammer "I wish I'd seen M-Malfoy's f-f-f--" before cracking up again.  
  
"Boys!" swore Hermione, storming up the stairs towards her dorm. "Honestly."  
  
Muttering progressively more improbably schemes for revenge under her breath, she strode round the corner and ran slap bang in Ginny Weasley.  
  
"Hey! Oh! Hello, Hermione."  
  
"Ginny! Oh, I'm sorry, here--" and she quickly helped the other girl to her feet. "I didn't see you there."  
  
"It's okay, really," said Ginny, blushing slightly as she brushed herself down. "I was just going to get changed-- er, is there something wrong?"  
  
"It's just--" Hermione frowned as she watched Neville step out of the boy's dorm, see her, and quickly duck back. "Well, it seems I have to open the dance with Malfoy."  
  
"Oh!" exclaimed Ginny. "I hear he's a good dancer."  
  
"...guh?" managed Hermione.  
  
"And a very good kisser if Pansy is to be believed."  
  
"Buh? Kuh? Puh?" Hermione choked. "Th-this is Malfoy we're talking about, Ginny. You know, Malfoy? Snarky bastard minion of the Dark Lord?"  
  
"Oh, well, yes, there's that, I suppose," said Ginny. "But it's not like you have to marry him or anything. And," added Ginny, smiling dreamily to herself, "he is so very, very pretty."  
  
Hermione's mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Still smiling, Ginny pecked her on the cheek and skipped off down the stairs, leaving Hermione staring after her like a large and very disturbed fish.  
  
"Right," Hermione growled, "that's it. You're ALL on my list!"  
  
Neville yelped and ducked back into his room again.  
  
#  
  
The night of the dance was warm and clear. Stars sparkled brightly through the faint haze of Hogwart's magical defences and moonlight slid in through Hermione's window to add delightful highlights to her hair, gleam off the gold heart hanging in the hollow of her throat and sparkle brightly off the matching bracelet. She smoothed out the lines of her burgundy robes, shook her hair back off her shoulders and allowed herself a small smile at her reflection.  
  
Perfect.  
  
Dousing the candles with a wave of her wand, she tucked it into her sleeve and swept out of the dorm room. It was still slightly early and the common room looked empty but, halfway to the exit, she was startled to hear Harry say "Hermione?" from behind her.  
  
"Hello, Harry." Hermione turned and smiled delightedly at his midnight blue robes. "You're looking good."  
  
"And you," grinned Harry, eyes glittering behind his glasses. "Give us a twirl then."  
  
Hermione laughed and spun for him, robes twirling out and falling back. Harry caught her with an arm around her waist as she stumbled slightly and, smiling, brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face.  
  
"Looking good, Miss Granger."  
  
"Don't I know it, Mister Potter." She leant into him for a second, then stepped away, her fingers lingering for a moment on his arm.  
  
"Hermione," said Harry, suddenly frowning, "we'll keep in touch, right? I mean, after Hogwarts. You and me and Ron and, and everyone?"  
  
"Don't be daft, Harry." On sudden impulse she came back to kiss him on the cheek and laughed when he blushed and ducked his head away. "I'll still be here when you and Ron are old and grey--"  
  
"--and you're still young and beautiful?"  
  
"Exactly," said Hermione, trying hard not to blush herself. "Now, come on. This is supposed to be an evening of fun and revelry. And I have to go and get insulted by Malfoy."  
  
Harry laughed. "Try not to kill him, okay? It wouldn't do to end your spotless school record by getting sent to Azkaban in the last week of your last year."  
  
"Harry," said Hermione. "Don't you know by now that I'm above such petty trivialities and house rivalries?"  
  
And she smiled sweetly, brushing her fingers against the heart charm on her bracelet.  
  
#  
  
Malfoy, whose deliberate unpunctuality normally forced her to suffer the Slytherin common room to fetch him, was impatiently pacing in front of the entrance to the Great Hall, just to be contrary. He flicked a look across her and scowled, pale hands twitching against the dark green of his robes like he'd forgotten where his pockets were.  
  
"You could have at least made an effort, Granger."  
  
"Knowing I could never come close to your level, Malfoy, I didn't feel it worth the time," you feckless miscreant, she added to herself. "If you are prepared--?"  
  
"We go in, we dance, I lead, you touch me as little as possible, no skin on skin contact, keep your eyes averted, your head down, don't speak or in fact try to communicate with me in anyway, when we're done you stay as far away from me as you can for the rest of the evening and we never, ever, under any circumstances, speak of this again."  
  
"Feel free to take a breath at any time Malfoy."  
  
"Oh, yes, and I'd prefer it if you tried not to breathe."  
  
"Did you know you have a loose thread?"  
  
"What?" gasped Malfoy, grabbing frantically at his robes. "Where? Damn those shoddy Hogsmeade tailors--"  
  
As he turned away from her, Hermione stepped forward and, with a practiced flick, dropped the heart charm from her bracelet into his pocket. There was a brief, almost invisible ripple, like a heat haze; Malfoy turned, saw how close she was, yelped and stumbled backwards.  
  
Hermione smiled sweetly. "All better now?"  
  
Malfoy opened his mouth to reply, but there were prefects coming down the corridors, trailing their housemates behind them and all he said was "Let's go" holding out his elbow for her to take. Keeping as far apart from each as their interlocked arms would allow, they swept into the Great Hall.  
  
#  
  
Dumbledore was making a speech. Hermione didn't bother listening, partly because she'd already reviewed a draft copy, and partly because Mrs Weasley, who was standing next to her, had just whispered "Oh, hello, Hermione, dear. You're looking very pretty this evening."  
  
"Well, thank you!" Hermione whispered back. "I didn't know you and Mr Weasley were Governors." She nodded her head at the board, standing just beyond the Weasleys.  
  
"Oh, we're not dear, but Bill has just come back from Egypt, and with Ginny, Ron and Charlie here, and Percy representing the Ministry, and Fred and George in to help with the decorations, I thought we might as well make it a family occasion. It's so rare that we're all together these days," she added, sadly. "All my little babies, flown the nest..."  
  
Hermione patted her arm. "That was a very nice thought, Mrs Weasley. I'm sure Ron is glad to have all his family around him." She made a mental note to check the punch for Veritaserum just in case Fred and George had decided upon a repeat of earlier triumphs.  
  
Malfoy hushed her which, given that he was paying more attention to the almost-nothing that Blaise was wearing than to Dumbledore's speech, was a bit much. Hermione glared daggers. Malfoy made a quite notable point of ignoring her.  
  
"A brilliant man in a lot of respects," murmured Mrs Weasley, watching Dumbledore wave a cup while reciting something about Wizard's Staffs, "but he does go on a bit, doesn't he? I suppose this is all new for you, but of course I heard the speech he made when Bill left, and Charlie's, and Percy's..." Molly smiled fondly.  
  
Malfoy snorted. Hermione elbowed him in the side and smiled innocently when he turned to glare at her.  
  
"...and so, without further ado," finished Dumbledore, "it only remains for me to, with great pleasure, call our Head Boy and Girl to lead us into the first dance. Ladies and Gentlemen, Master Draco Malfoy and Miss Hermione Granger."  
  
There was a smattering of polite applause.  
  
"Try not to make me look bad," snapped Malfoy, leading her out from the crowd into open space. "Or," he corrected himself, "any worse than you do by sheer presence alone."  
  
Hermione bit back her reply and, as the music began, dipped her knee. Malfoy gave a brief twitch in approximation of a bow, and stepped forward to take her arms. It was possible that he was a good dancer but not, alas, when he was trying to keep an arms length between them. They looked faintly ridiculous but fortunately, after a few seconds, the others followed them out and, less than a minute after that, they bumped into another dancing couple, who turned out to be Seamus and Ginny.  
  
"Alright?" said Seamus, smiling genially at Malfoy and winking conspiratorially at Hermione.  
  
Malfoy growled something inappropriate. Hermione resisted the sudden, strong urge to kick him in the ankles.  
  
"Hello, Hermione." Ginny smiled too. "Malfoy."  
  
Hermione took a moment to admire the way the candlelight glowed in Ginny's hair and glittered prettily off the simple black robes that had been quite neatly charmed into expensive looking iridescence. Malfoy run a salacious glance from Ginny's ankles to her cleavage. A small smile curled at the corners of his lips. "You know, you scrub up surprisingly well for a Weasley."  
  
"I think you'll find I'm full of surprises," smiled Ginny, sliding gracefully in front of Hermione and draping her arms over Malfoy's shoulders. "Might I cut in?"  
  
"Thought you might want rescuing," added Seamus in a whisper to Hermione.  
  
"Yes, Granger," smirked Malfoy over Ginny's shoulder. "Do run along and play."  
  
And he twirled away, taking Ginny with him and leaving behind her parting wink at Hermione as Seamus stepped in to Malfoy's place.  
  
"Oh, I'll play, Malfoy," Hermione smirked to herself. "I'll play all right. Let the games begin."  
  
"What's that?" asked Seamus, leaning in to be heard over the music.  
  
"Oh, just thinking out loud," said Hermione, and was slightly embarrassed to hear herself cackle.  
  
#  
  
Step in step and arm in arm, Ginny and Malfoy swirled gracefully across the dance floor.  
  
"You're a much better dancer than Pansy gives you credit for," smirked Ginny.  
  
"I'm a much better everything than Pansy gives me credit for," Malfoy smirked right back.  
  
Ginny looked thoughtful and allowed herself to be dipped backwards. When she came back up, she asked, "everything?"  
  
"Everything," agreed Malfoy, and raised his hand so she could twirl away and then back into his arms. "It's a Slytherin thing."  
  
"I'm sure it is." Ginny shimmied in a way that made Malfoy sharply inhale and a small smile curl across her lips.  
  
Malfoy was just about to make an extremely witty and entirely propos response, when a loud hail rang out.  
  
"Hey! Oi! Malfoy!"  
  
A red faced Ron was barrelling towards them through the crowd, torch light glinting off his prefect's badge in rather a dramatic fashion. Ginny muttered something impressively obscene and then smiled winningly at Malfoy's consternation.  
  
"Malfoy! Ginny!" Ron shoved his way between them. "What do you think you're doing?!"  
  
"It's a new-fangled thing you might not have heard of," said Ginny. "It's called dancing."  
  
"Do you have to be so close together?" complained Ron.  
  
"What's the matter, Weasel?" asked Malfoy, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Jealous?"  
  
"Actually," said Ron, pushing Ginny aside and throwing an arm around Malfoy's waist, "yes." And, pulling the other boy in tightly, Ron tilted Malfoy backwards and stuck his tongue down Malfoy's throat.  
  
#  
  
On the other side of the hall, Hermione tried yet again to get through the crush to the drinks table. Seamus had already been lost to a previous attempt, the boy being pulled away by a group of punch laden and determined looking Ravenclaws before he could get back to her. She spotted an empty glass and lunged for it and, at that exact moment, Snape swirled past with Trelawney glittering in his arms and oh-so-casually stepped on the hem of her robes.  
  
Pulled up short, she swore as the gap filled in; her death glare at Snape went unnoticed and she swore again.  
  
"Hermione!" exclaimed McGonagall right by her ear, making her jump. "Such language!"  
  
"Sorry, Professor," said Hermione, turning round to see the staff witches congregating around them.  
  
"Oh, let the girl cut loose," said Vector. "It's the end of term! We should all let our hair down a little." She waved her glass towards where Sinistra and Dumbledore were dancing something approaching a tango. "Just like that fine example!"  
  
"Albus is certainly enthusiastic," agreed McGonagall, "although, of all the staff, Severus is clearly the best dancer."  
  
They watched Snape tilt Trelawney backwards; the sweeping crystals in her hair narrowly missed Flitwick who was swung out of the way by his dance-partner, an ermine wearing Madame Maxine, looking more like a giant bear than ever.  
  
"Oh, yes; but Filius more than makes up for his small stature in... other areas." Hooch sighed, a small smile on her face.  
  
Sprout made a wordless noise of agreement, adding, "You have to appreciate a man who really knows how to use his charms."  
  
"Have you tried the punch?" McGonagall asked Hermione. "It's very fruity."  
  
"I'm going to go away now," said Hermione, and did.  
  
#  
  
Spluttering disgusted curses, Malfoy finally managed to get his hands against Ron's chest and pushed the other boy off.  
  
"Don't fight it, Draco," said Ron, grabbing for him again. "It's meant to be!"  
  
Malfoy dodged away, retching and rubbing frantically at his mouth with the sleeve of his robe.  
  
"Ron!" Ginny stamped her foot. "Take your hands off my man!"  
  
"Looking for another notch on your bedpost, Gin?"  
  
"At least I have notches!" snapped Ginny.  
  
"Hey!" Ron coloured. "I was saving myself for someone special!"  
  
"I saw him first!" Ginny grabbed Malfoy's arm, tugging.  
  
Ron quickly caught the other one, yelling, "I'm older!"  
  
"Are you on drugs?" Malfoy twisted between them but couldn't extricate himself. "Been at the potions cabinet? On the charms? Because if you're not, you really, really should be. And in St. Mungos!"  
  
"Ron, Ginny!" Appearing out of the crowd, Charlie slapped a genial hand on each of his siblings' shoulders. "What's all this here, then? What're you up to, Malfoy?"  
  
"Tell her to let go," yelled Ron as Ginny was demanding, "Tell him to let go!"  
  
Charlie snorted and with a quick yank pulled both of their hands away, grabbing Malfoy as the sudden release sent him stumbling.  
  
"Malfoy?" Charlie frowned. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"  
  
If there was a response, it was lost beneath the sounds of Ron and Ginny leaping at each other; the rolling mass of scratches, bites and hair-pulling was quickly lost behind the crowd as Charlie tugged Malfoy away.  
  
"Here--" Charlie steered them towards one of the tables, tumbling Malfoy into a chair and sitting down next to him. "Did they hurt you, Draco? You can talk to me, you know. Seeker to seeker."  
  
"Abuse!" Malfoy choked out. "Defamation! Infamy! Bloody-- what are you doing?"  
  
"Just checking for injuries," said Charlie, running his hands over Malfoy's shoulders and down his arms. "Wow, you must really work out."  
  
"Well, yes, I--" Malfoy gasped, "Professor Weasley!"  
  
"Please," murmured Charlie, unbuttoning Malfoy's shirt, "call me Charlie."  
  
"No, no! Off," cried Malfoy, batting ineffectually at the other man's hands. "Bad touch! Bad touch!"  
  
"I say," said Fred, appearing at Charlie's shoulder. "Leave it out, Charlie."  
  
"Steady on there, Charles old boy," agreed George, suddenly at his twin's side.  
  
"You do realise that's Malfoy, right?" asked Fred, pushing between them and shoving Charlie back.  
  
"You know, Malfoy?" asked George, pulling Malfoy out of the reach of Charlie's hands. "Ferret boy? With all this poncy, silver-blond, soft, pretty--" He curled his fingers in Malfoy's hair. "You know, it really catches the light."  
  
"What?" Fred turned to look. "I suppose if you like, you know, pale, perfect skin..." He ran a finger down Malfoy's cheek. "Mmm. Nice and smooth."  
  
"It does go rather well with the robes," said George. "Although," he tugged at Malfoy's collar inquisitively, "you have to wonder how good he looks without them."  
  
Charlie opened his mouth to speak but Fred quickly filled it with a handful of sweets pulled from his pocket while George yanked Malfoy to his feet.  
  
"You know," he whispered in Malfoy's ear. "We happen to have just had the flat over the shop put on the floo network."  
  
"Only a fire away," added Fred in Malfoy's other ear. "You can stand a little heat, right, Draco?"  
  
"Eep," managed Malfoy.  
  
"Why, perchance, is Charles covered in feathers?" asked Percy from behind them.  
  
Fred and George swore in unison.  
  
"Weasleys!" moaned Malfoy. "Weasleys everywhere!"  
  
"And should he be that colour?" Percy frowned. "Although, I must say I'm not entirely clear on what colour that actually is; so I would suspect not."  
  
"Don't you have someone to stab in back, Perce?" asked Fred cheerfully as George suggested "Arses to lick?" and then winked salaciously at Malfoy who started backing away.  
  
"I should just be going now," he said. "You just discuss this among yourselves and--"  
  
He tripped over Percy, who grabbed him before he could fall.  
  
"Really, Malfoy," said Percy. "There's no need to prostrate yourself before me..." He smiled. "...quite yet, at any rate."  
  
"What?" asked Malfoy. "No, what?"  
  
"You must allow me to entertain you in my office." Percy pulled Malfoy closer. "I've been working on some new restrictions. Perhaps you'd care to help me enforce my policies."  
  
Malfoy's confusion slowly melted into abject horror; he took a shuddering step back. Percy took a matching step forward, crowding Malfoy into the twins and licking his lips in a highly suggestive manner.  
  
"You know," said George, "three's a crowd--"  
  
"--but four's an orgy," finished Fred, grinning.  
  
"There will be no orgy," growled an imposing figure bearing down on them out of what had started as a dancing crowd and was now mostly an amused audience.  
  
"Wood!" cried Malfoy throwing himself at the older man. "Thank Merlin! You've got--"  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy," growled Oliver, shoving him back. "What did you do to my boyfriend?"  
  
"...oh crap."  
  
#  
  
Hermione pushed her way between couples dancing near, if not to, the beat and tapped Michael Corner on the shoulder. He turned to face her without stopping his arm pumping or head bopping, leaving Hermione with the disconcerting sensation of talking to someone in the middle of grand mal seizures.  
  
"Have you seen Ginny?"  
  
"Well, we did date," said Michael. "Doo doo doo," he added. "Bum bum de bum."  
  
"I meant more recently than that."  
  
"Then no," said Michael. "Yeah yeah yeah. Wanna get down with my funky self?"  
  
"Not in the slightest," said Hermione.  
  
Michael shrugged, or possibly it was just another dance move; either way, he bobbed and shook himself away from her.  
  
Hermione sighed and looked around, catching sight of Dean sitting at one of the long-tables in front of a mess of rolls, cakes and tiny sausages, biting his lip in concentration.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"School portrait."  
  
"In food?"  
  
"Art is transitory," said Dean in a tone that suggested this was an explanation.  
  
"Right," said Hermione. "Have you seen Ginny? Or Ron? Or Malfoy?"  
  
"In the faces of every passing child," said Dean.  
  
"...I'm going to take that as no." She looked around the hall again. "Why is Terry in a toga?"  
  
"Millie stole his sleeves." Dean leant back to admire his work. "Needs more cocktail sticks."  
  
"A head girl's work is never done," muttered Hermione and strode pointedly towards the sniggering Slytherins.  
  
#  
  
Two floors up and three corridors over, a head poked out from behind a tapestry. There was no one else around. Nothing but empty stone and guttering torches as far as could be seen.  
  
"Free!" cried Malfoy and ran down the corridor, laughing.  
  
As he passed, a hand leapt out of an alcove, grabbed his robe, and yanked him in.  
  
#  
  
Some time later found Hermione wandering out of Hogwarts to find Harry sprawled out on the main steps, bottles, mugs and snacks scattered beside him, looking up into the clear night sky. It was cool for summer, but a welcome relief to the heat of the increasingly boisterous hall.  
  
"Hey, Harry," she called out as she approached.  
  
"Hermione!" Harry twisted around to see. "I was watching the stars." He frowned. "Shouldn't you be dancing?"  
  
"I was looking for Ron."  
  
"Oh. He's around somewhere," said Harry, waving a vague hand. He flashed her a sudden grin. "No doubt bleaching his tongue."  
  
"Poor Ron," said Hermione without the slightest trace of sympathy.  
  
Harry considered her for a second, before going back to star gazing. "I always thought he was a little too enthusiastic about fighting Malfoy."  
  
“Harry--”  
  
"Always getting their hands on each other. Playing with their wands. Malfoy writing Ron songs..."  
  
"Harry!" Hermione sighed, looking out to where she could just make out fool-hardy students ducking into the edge of the Forbidden Forest.  
  
"You can't really think Ron... Although I suppose... a component of... It wasn't quite how I... unless I swapped object and subject when--" She broke off at Harry's amused gaze. "And I just said all that out loud, didn't I?"  
  
"Hermione Granger," admonished Harry, grinning and wagging a finger at her, "did you turn evil?"  
  
"No!" She considered this for a moment, then sighed and joined him on the steps. "Well, okay, just a little bit."  
  
"So, the whole..." Harry waved his mug. "Kissing thing? Your fault?"  
  
"It seemed like a good idea at the time."  
  
"Always does."  
  
"I may have got my charm a little--"  
  
"Arse over tits?" suggested Harry.  
  
Hermione stared at him.  
  
"One of Dudley's favourite sayings." Harry raised his mug in toast. "Liked them crude, did our Dudders."  
  
Hermione sighed. "Harry--"  
  
"Here." He poured her a drink and passed it across, before topping up his own. "It's--"  
  
A gaggle of giggling Hufflepuffs ran past, holding Susan Bones aloft as she smiled beatifically and tossed handful of flower petals around them.  
  
"What's with them?" asked Hermione, sipping at her drink.  
  
"I may have charmed the punch," said Harry calmly.  
  
Hermione sprayed pumpkin juice.  
  
"And the food," added Harry, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips. "And, just possibly, the corsage as well."  
  
"Harry Potter!" she gasped, scandalised.  
  
He grinned at her, "being friends with the House Elves has its advantages."  
  
"Oh, God." Hermione leaned over, burying her face in her hands. "We are so going to get expelled."  
  
"Hermione. There's, what, three days of term left?"  
  
"Like that makes a difference? 'And how did you finish your term as Head Girl, Miss Granger? I was kicked out of school!'"  
  
Harry laughed; Hermione lifted her head up to glare half-heartedly at him.  
  
There was a low moan behind them and they turned to see a heavily mussed Malfoy wandering out onto the steps. He half sat, half fell down between the two of them.  
  
"Good grief, Malfoy!" exclaimed Hermione. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Mr. Weasley," mused Malfoy slowly, and slightly glassy eyed.  
  
"Yes?" prompted Harry.  
  
"Mr. Weasley," repeated Malfoy solemnly.  
  
"YES?" urged Hermione.  
  
"Mr. Weasley," announced Malfoy, "is a surprisingly... good... kisser."  
  
The last word barely out of his mouth, he calmly tilted over sideways and passed out, his head in Hermione's lap. She sighed and began absent-mindedly fiddling with his hair.  
  
"I feel kind of bad about this."  
  
"Just kind of?"  
  
"Well, you know," she shrugged. "It IS Malfoy."  
  
"To evil," grinned Harry, raising his mug.  
  
"To evil," agreed Hermione, raising her own.  
  
And they clinked them together over Malfoy's faintly snoring head while Fred and George Weasley ran past throwing Berties All-Flavour Beans at a convincingly naked Percy and Oliver Wood and Seamus Finnegan filled the air with multi-coloured sparks to the drunken delight of Dean Thomas and Blaise Zabini who were happily sprawled at his feet.


End file.
